The Sins of Growing Up
by Thatsjusttoobad
Summary: Jack Frost is a powerful force in the organized crime circle. He has it all, money, power, drugs, sex, but his simple world comes crashing to a halt when a boy named Peter Pan is suddenly pushed into it. Peter Pan/Jack Frost WARNINGS: Rape, Torture, Murder, Drug Abuse, Very Sad Ending
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: **Mature

**Pairing: **Jack Frost/Peter Pan

**Genre: **Mafia AU

**Warnings: **Rape, torture, murder, sad - very sad - ending

_ITALICS ARE A FLASHBACK OR DREAMS_

PROLOGUE

Hot.

Dear _**GOD**_ it's _hot_.

It's surrounding me, suffocating me in its never-ending, relentless embrace. I _hate _the heat. I've always preferred cold especially the icy, dead of winter, freezing-to-death-in-a-frozen-lake, type of cold. The way the frost forms in fantastic formations around your fingers if you hold them up to a window long enough and the silent sound the snow makes as it hits the ground. However, where I am – or at least _think_ I am – would never assist me in enjoying this simple delight.

Stretching and groaning, I rolled over until I smelled the familiar scent of sex as I buried my face back into not-so-fluffy crappy-motel-sheets. I did it again didn't I?

Yep, that's me, always waking up in some stranger's bed or a stranger in my bed and fuzzy memories of the night before. I'll admit that it hasn't always been like this; I used to at least KNOW the person I woke up with. Well, at least their stripper name or what gang they were from or… ah well, does it really matter? My line of work isn't exactly pristine.

You see I'm the leader of a mafia.

CHAPTER 1

After dressing and slipping out of that dingy motel room, I got in my car and moments later was speeding down the highway. My phone buzzed in my pocket, nearly giving me a heart attack for I forgot it was there. I pulled it out and glanced at the contact name - Nick St. North. Sighing, I hit the green accept button and immediately spat out "What North?" because I really didn't have the time or patience for a hello at the moment.

North chuckled before greeting me, "Well glad to hear you so happy this morning. Rough night?"

"Have I ever had a good night?" I really didn't have time for this conversation. "What do you want? I don't want my time wasted by some 'friendly' conversation, so either get to the point or hang up."

Another chuckle but he did finally get to the point.

"We need you. There's another one."

I let the slightly annoyed silence sit for a while before huffing out, "Meet me at my place in about 15 hours," and hanging up.

'Another one' was basically code for another gang trying to become part of my mob. I drove for a couple more hours before I realized that I'd forgotten my black tie on the bedside table in that crappy motel in hot, hot, hot Vegas. Damn, that was my favorite tie. Oh well.

It was another hour until I stopped to pee and get food - a bag of barbecue chips and Coke - then I was off again. It would still be at least eight more hours and two more restroom stops until I got back to my place in Colorado, then I would have to wait for North and the new family's head to show up to see what I thought about them.

After way too long of a drive I finally reached my destination. It'd been almost a year since I'd last been to this house and it still looked exactly how I remembered - give or take a few overgrown bushes and ivy vines.

My old 1930's cabin-thing in the forest still had the same white paint from when it was originally built except now it was more yellowish and the same chipping concrete patio that I would spend hours on doing who knows what. I got out of the car and went to unlock the house only to find that the door wasn't even on it's hinges.

Someone had broken in… again. That was the 3rd time in this house and people wonder why I never go here. Well other than the fact that I'd been born here.

I walked into the main room and threw down my bag and keys onto the dusty old green couch before I searched through the rest of the tiny 800 square foot house.

To my surprise nothing was missing except every single one of my movies which, of course, was odd but I'm not too worried about a couple of VHS's that I'd been wanting to update to DVD's anyways.

Then it happened.

The guilt, shame, horrible repressed memories, and - worst of all - pent up anger about having to pretend to be someone I'm not took ahold of me and there I was crying on the floor. Damn this place.

_A little boy ran laughing through the flowers in the back yard. He wasn't allowed in the front until he could properly handle a gun. His beautiful mother stood on the porch, her brunette hair in a braid cascading over her shoulder. She loved watching her baby boy play as much as possible because she knew what her son didn't. Then multiple gun shots rang through the air. Even though this was a common occurrence, the boy's mother knew something was wrong and she ran to pick him up and carry him away from the fray. But she would never make it to her son and her son would never know what her last words to him were. He would never know that as she lay in the flowers bleeding out that she whispered to her little boy, "I love you, Jack."_

After a good sob I pulled myself together and staggered over to the liquor cabinet. Weeping is not something someone of my importance should be doing so I grabbed the strongest whiskey I could find and took a long pull. When the bottle was shut and put back into its proper place, (everything had to be in its proper place when I was around) I had a very nice, very familiar burn itching in my throat. Glancing at the clock I saw there was not much time left until North got here with the family so I figured that I better take a shower so the others don't have to smell the skank I had gotten with.

Just moments after I'd pulled on my favorite plaid shirt and an old pair of what used to be skinny jeans, I heard a crisp knock at the door. I opened it to reveal a man much taller than myself wearing a frankly alarming amount of red, long black hair draped over his shoulders, and he leaned on a heavy looking cane. What stuck out most, however, on this flamboyant figure was his hook where his left hand should've been. He introduced himself immediately, "Hello, I'm James Hook and you must be Mr. Frost?"

I held out a hand to shake his as I nodded hesitantly. Geez, no one made me feel this intimidated since my dad was still alive and I commanded one of the most powerful groups on the planet.

"Yeah, I'm Frost. Jack Frost that is," I told him with all the intensity I could muster then asked, "Is North with you?"

"'M right here Frost!" Came a powerful Russian accent from behind Hook. I internally sighed with relief. North was one of the toughest people I knew and strictly speaking, I wasn't supposed to be left alone without a bodyguard of somesort. Of course I thought that was a stupid rule because I could handle myself perfectly thank you very much but this 'Hook' fellow gave the impression he could stare down a shark until said shark rolled belly up and on top of that he probably had at least five other men with him. I was just thankful I had some back up this time.

As I gestured for Hook to come in and have a seat I found I was sorely mistaken about him having more men with him. The only other person brought with him was a small red-headed boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen? He timidly followed Hook yet still walked with a bounce of defiance. I wondered if this kid is Hook's son but I decided to save that for later, now was the time to figure out if James Hook is worth wasting my time or not.

Hook and his red-headed companion sat on my love seat adjacent to an old recliner which I sat on and North took over half the couch.

I talked to Hook for at least an hour before we got to the topic of his men and I finally snuck a question in about the boy.

"Oh Peter?" Hook replied, mildly surprised in my interest in his companion, "He's my _personal _servant."

"Ah," I said simply.

I continued to talk to him about why his gang - he called them his crew, like they were pirates or something - should be included in my organized crime circle but after learning about the boy, Peter, I'd lost interest. Of course 'personal servant' could mean anything but the way Hook said it made me worry about the innocence of such a young teen. I wasn't sure if I could trust the hidden meanings of Hook's words with his long, wiry mustache.

When it began to get dark, I wrapped up our conversation and gave Hook his instructions on what him and his crew needed to do before I would let them be under my command. If it had been done correctly within the next 48 hours then Hook would meet me back here with his men. If not… well I couldn't risk having my current whereabouts be known to people I couldn't trust, now could I?

On Hook's way out the door, Peter bumped into him causing Hook to turn sharply on his heel and raise his cane as if to hit the cowering boy before remembering there was an audience. Hook gave a completely un-dignified grunt before grabbing Peter's wrist and throwing him out the door. I turned to North to glimpse at his reaction - which was almost as horrified as my own - but he didn't stay where he was forever and went out the door after them. However, North didn't make it outside before I heard a dull thud followed by a small whimper and Hook's voice making an obscene threat confirming my suspicions about what kind of 'personal' servant Peter was.

I shut the door and sat down on the couch in a daze. That was cruel to the extreme and thats coming from someone who runs the business of cruel to the extreme. Sure I've killed people and tortured some for information - I've even been the person getting beaten for info - but even _I _have some boundaries and James Hook just went running past several of them.

First of all, I would never cause physical pain to someone for accidentally running into me or make threats about how they were going to be punished so severely they wouldn't be able to walk properly for several days. Secondly, I think owning a person for sexual purposes is absolutely revolting. Don't get me wrong, I buy and sell many illegal things myself but I would _never_ buy OR sell a _human being _for my own pleasure.

However, there was still a spark of the real Peter burning somewhere deep in his eyes. After seeing how Peter is treated by his owner I knew that I had to get him out of that situation. Whatever it took.

**AN: Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And happy anything else I missed! **

**Okay, first of all I am super duper excited to finally start putting this up and see what you lovelies think of it. Secondly, I've been working really hard on this but I've been slipping back into my usual depressed state and haven't been getting much done of anything so because I don't want to fail school or anything like that, this may not be updated as regularly as it should be. I'm aiming for one chapter every month but we'll have to see how that goes.**

**In other news, I sorta kinda have a sorta kinda boyfriend. You personally might not care but gosh damn. This is a big deal for me. There are actually people out there that give a shit that I exist. You all care obviously but most of the time I feel like people are just pretending to care for their own personal gain. I know thats not true for a good majority of the time and I know I'm not the only person who feels like this. So I guess what I'm trying to say in all this meaningless rambling is to all the people with anxiety, depression, ocd, etc. You're not alone and if you ever need someone to talk to my inbox is always open.**

**Anyways, don't forget to R&amp;R and have a wonderful life you wonderful person!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I forgot to mention on the first chapter, I do not own any rights to DreamWorks ****_Rise of the Guardians _****or Disney's ****_Peter Pan._**** These characters are not mine and this story is completely from my own brain.**

CHAPTER 2

After drinking an obscene amount of tea and shouting to myself the things I'd like to say to people like Hook, I called my buddy Aster Bunnymund. Weird name, I know, but it actually means 'the opposite of disaster' which I find hilarious because Aster usually finds himself in the middle of some sort of disaster on almost a daily basis. Although, I'm not exactly sure where 'Bunnymund' comes from. I like to think its because he sometimes reminds me of a big fluffy bunny. Aster specializes in thievery and I needed a person to be thieved. He picked up his phone after the second ring, answering with a thick aussie accent.

"'Ello Frost."

"Aster, I have a job for you," I got right to the point and of course he wanted to know what was in it for himself.

"Lessee… How does $1000 sound?"

"I think tha' sounds about righ'. What's the job?"

"I need you to track down a James Hook. Once you find him you'll find a red-headed boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen? I want the boy asap."

"Can do boss."

There was a soft beep telling me Aster has hung up so I threw my phone down on the couch and slunk into the bedroom to take a long overdue snooze.

_It'd been years since that little boy had witnessed his dear mother's death and that little boy was not so little anymore. He now sat handcuffed to a chair being interrogated about the whereabouts of his slimy father. Each time the boy was asked he told the truth. _

"_I DON'T KNOW!" _

_He would scream again and again yet each time the hits would get harder or the knife would dig deeper. The boy tried making up a location that his father might be in but that never worked. _

_Weeks and weeks he spent attached to a chair in a dark room until finally one hot, hot, hot day the guards let in the boy's captor. That day should've been like any other with merciless beatings for information and maybe a crumb of bread for supper if he got lucky but something was off in the air. The boy stared at the ground unknowing of what fate was coming to him. _

_Slowly all of the boy's garments were removed and in one searingly painful moment his purity had been stolen by none other than Pitch Black._

I awoke with a start, bolting straight up and throwing my blanket off. My forehead was soaked in sweat and the all too vivid flashback still there every time I shut my eyes, even for a second.

Rolling out of bed, I went and picked up my phone. Four new texts from Aster.

10:45pm

I found Hook. Moving in on him now.

11:30pm

Got the boy. Red head right?

1:15am

The kid says you're in Colorado? You haven't been there in years, mate.

2:00am

Pulling up to your place now.

I checked the time, 3:30am. Shit! He's been outside for an hour and a half; I'll never hear the end of this. I ran outside to find Aster and Peter fast asleep in the old Impala that Aster got from his dad.

"Oh I wish I had a camera right now," I mumbled. The sight was an odd mix between strange and adorable.

When I walked up to the driver's side Aster popped up and pointed a gun at me through the open window. It took him a second or two to register who I was before lowering the weapon.

"Geez, mate, what took ya' so long? We've been out here for-"

"An hour and a half. I know," I said, cutting him off. "Is Peter all right?"

"Peter?" He said, looking confused before figuring out who I was talking about. "Yeah, the little brumby is jus' about as okay as he can ge' with a life like his."

"Good... Good. Can you help me bring him inside?"

Aster was a gentle as possible with Peter and I was thankful for that because I didn't want him to be more damaged than he already was. Once he lay on the bed I did a quick examination and after deciding that Peter's cuts and bruises weren't severe enough for immediate medical attention, I let him sleep. After all, you gotta dream while you still can.

Aster and I walked into the kitchen, which is adjacent to the living room where I'd first seen Peter. I pulled a cabinet open to find the safe with most of my cash inside. After putting in the code and giving Aster his money, the thief left without another word.

I sat on the couch and waited for Peter to wake up.

Approximately three and a quarter hours later I heard rustling coming from the other room. I ran to the doorway connecting my room to the rest of the place and came to a dead stop.

What exactly do you do when you're a mafia lord and you've kidnapped someone for _good_ purposes?

I stood there perplexed until Peter started frantically thrashing, obviously tangled in the sheets.

"Where am I?!" Peter yelled.

Flipping on the light, I took a few tentative steps forward and he stopped moving.

"You- You're that guy!" Peter informed me. "What do you want with me? I can't tell you anything if thats what you want. The Captain never tells me anything important!"

I raised my eyebrows before taking a few more cautious steps toward him. He tried to back away but was stuck against the far wall. I guess I should've expected this reaction, forcefully removing him from his life and all.

"Peter I- ... Wait don't move." I told him and ran out of the room.

After a short time banging around in the poor excuse for a kitchen, I reappeared with a tray full of food and an entire jug of milk precariously tucked under my arm. Peter still looked like a deer caught in the headlights but upon seeing the food, he calmed slightly. I placed the tray as close to him as I dared get and set the milk on the night stand. After standing there awkwardly for a period of time, I realized that Peter might actually eat the food if I left the room so thats exactly what I did.

I went back to the couch and pulled out my shitty PC. It took 20 years of waiting to finally start up properly before I could open up the browser and check my email (2,985). A bunch of spam and one relevant email filled my inbox. I selected all the bullshit I don't care about and hit the trash icon then opened the email from the sandman.

Sandy is one of my best dealers and another extremely close and trusted allies. He is another person in my life with an odd name. No one knows his name, I don't even think he remembers what it originally was. It's gone through so many changes but the most current name is Sandy which apparently morphed from Shady. He said when I was just learning to talk I couldn't say his name but always called him Sandy like the sandman so I guess that's what he got stuck with. I call absolute bullshit on that story though because I was never cute enough to do such a thing. I was never cute.

Anyways, the email read -

19 July 2009

Sender: shadysandy

Receiver:

Subject: Wonderful Thoughts

Message: Hi Jack! I was making a distribution when I remembered it was your birthday so happy birthday!

I hope you're not getting into trouble with nasty old Pitch again. The last thing we need is for him to get any bright ideas and have you end up like last time. (I shivered at the memory of my stolen teenage years. Funny though, Sandy was talking about the same thing I dreamt about earlier today)

Anyways, the new stuff is selling very well. People have started calling it "Wonderful Thoughts" and I was thinking maybe we could extend our reach with this to bigger cities. Its your call though boss.

Have a nice day or night :-)

-Sandy

I decided to take care of the business with Sandy later and go check on Peter. While walking to the bathroom to grab my medical supplies - Peter had some cuts that would need stitches and I couldn't ignore the possibility of him needing medical attention... elsewhere - I stopped by the liquor cabinet again to grab a Coke out of the very back. I grabbed a can and started to walk away but an after thought occurred to me so I also grabbed some Crown Royal whisky to mix with my carbonated crap.

With an ice cold glass of Crown &amp; Coke in my left hand and my all purpose medical supplies in my right I went to go start fixing Peter. However I only made it as far as the doorway.

**AN: HELLO CHILDREN! Well I guess not all of you are children but ah, whatever. Anyways sorry this is a couple days late. I sat here for a while trying to come up with a reasonable excuse but I realized that the only true thing I could say is that I am a very lazy person so there you go. **

***insert bad transition here***

**So since you're reading this story about Jack Frost and Peter Pan then I imagine you'd like to read more stories with this paring, no? WELL I think you all should go read Lady-Mademoiselle's _Wired Life. _She is a TOTALLY AWESOME AUTHOR. **

***another horrible transition***

**Okay so that sorta kinda boyfriend I mentioned before is a little shit. I'm really pissed at him but I still really reallY realLY reaLLY reALLY rEALLY REALLY like him. Its messed up but thats just how my life is I guess.**

***these transitions keep getting worse***

**Please oh please don't be mad but I ... uh ... still haven't written the third chapter. So... erm... yeah. I PROMISE I WILL TRY TO GET OFF MY LAZY ASS AND WRITE IT BEFORE I HAVE TO UPDATE AGAIN but considering I've been going through the worlds nastiest writers block, it might not happen or it might get written and in several months get rewritten. **

**So I guess there you go c:**

**Have a spectacular day/night/whatever you awesome person reading this and as always, don't forget to R&amp;R**


	3. Chapter 3

Peter lie on the foot of my bed drifting in and out of blissful conscious. He'd eaten every morsel of food I had brought to him earlier and there was maybe half a glass of milk left in the jug. It became extremely obvious the poor child had not eaten a proper amount of food for way too long. Then in a flash of uncoordinated movement, it also became obvious that sleeping without permission was known to Peter as a horrible, nasty thing.

Peter jumped to the back of the bed yelling, "I'm sorry! I'm _sorry_!" over and over and over. I cautiously leaned down and placed the medical supplies gently on the ground. He stopped yelling and now looked at me with question.

"I'm sorry, we never got a good introduction," I said while raising my hands up, exposing my palms to Peter, "I'm Jack."

"I kn_ow_ that dumb-butt. Why the heck am I here?!"

Jesus kid, could you be more snarky?

"I don't like Hook; that's why you're here" I answered, forcing a smile.

The questioning look on his face became more intense, "Well no one likes Hook but that didn't answer my question!"

I moved over to sit on the edge of the bed, Peter flinching at my movement. "I'm not gonna hurt you," I murmured, "I'm not gonna hurt you like that mad man did and I'm not gonna let him hurt you anymore. That's why I took you… because I don't know why but I couldn't just let you be hurt. I mean I've seen people get hurt before and haven't felt a damn thing about it but there's something different about you and I couldn't just stand there and…" I cut myself off, realizing I was rambling. Peter didn't respond but his face showed that he was thinking over every word I just said. It seemed as if he almost believed me; I know if I was in his spot right now I would be hoping to god I was telling the truth.

"Anyways," I continued while slowly grabbing the things I put on the ground, "How's about I help you with some of your scratches?"

Peter looked up, wild-eyed like he knew my secret intentions that weren't really there. I smiled at him, warmly and put the things on the bed, showing him he had nothing to be afraid of.

It may have taken several stitches and a new split lip from Peter biting back tears but we finally managed to clean his broken body up pretty well. Carefully I put the medical supplies back into the red box, snuck a small smile towards Peter and turned to leave him alone again. Just before I was out the doorway an innocent voice asked, "Mr. Frost?"

I turned to face him again and leaned against the door frame, "You can call me Jack, I don't mind."

"Oh… okay," Peter said timidly, "I don't know why but I feel safer around you so…" He paused and took in a deep breath, "So will you stay with me?"

My insides suddenly felt warm and in a way I liked. What.

Flustered, I said, "Uh… Y-yeah. Of course, Peter…. I'll just go put these things away."

I turned down the hallway back into the slightly grimy bathroom. Carefully I put the stuff back into a cabinet. Right next to it, I had another red bag. This bag contained horrible, unspeakable things, all of them completely legal. My hand hovered over it for a second and for a terrifying second I was tempted to open it.

A moment passed and I was merrily walking towards Peter again. I sauntered back into the room and Peter snapped his head up. For a second a look of terror as if I was coming to hurt him flashed on his face but he tried to cover it up when he asked, "Do you…. Do you think I could borrow some of your clothes? Mine are pretty nasty…."

I hadn't even thought about clothes and I really didn't have much there even for myself. I tried to think of what we could do to remedy this situation but my brain was working overtime with trying to think about Peter's clothes but also how innocent and child-like Peter still managed to be.

"I'm not sure," I said, still thinking of what I should do. I just wanted him to be happy but this fucking house was not a happy place. "Oh! I know! How about I'll lend you some old clothes from when I used to live here a lot and tomorrow morning we'll go shopping."

Peter's face lit up like a child on Christmas and he asked, "Do you have any green?"

**AN: **

**HOLY NUGGETS I AM SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LATE ****_AND _****SHORT UPDATE!**

**I want to give some stupid excuse because I do that a lot but I'm trying not to make excuses and just live up to my mistakes. Its surprising actually how much better people treat you when you're not making excuses all the time. I highly recommend it.**

**Anyways, about the story, I've "mapped" out where I want to go and what I want to happen all the way up through chapter 9 and just in case anyone is wondering - yes, they will be having the sex and yes, it will be somewhat soon. I don't want to give too much away but spoiler alert! THE SEX AND A GOOD MAJORITY OF THE STORY IS GAYYYYYYYY**

**I think I'm hilarious. I'm really not.**

**ANOTHER ANYWAYS! If you still haven't checked out **Lady-Mademoiselle **'s J/P story, first of all what are you doing with your life get it together, second of all go do it right now, you ****_will not_**** be disappointed. She is a very sweet person and a very awesome writer!**

**That is all c:**

**Have a lovely life and don't forget to R&amp;R**


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Everything seemed to be warm and happy. It was disgusting.

Nevertheless I was strangely content with the current warm fuzzy state of the Earth. Peter and I flew down the highway at an outrageous speed in a car packed full of us and my business necessities. Peter had his nose pressed against the window, eyes wide in awe from the world around him. He'd been like that ever since he figured out I gave absolutely no fucks about how he sat in my car.

An eternity passed before I pulled into a shopping center parking lot and as we walked in, Peter was basically jumping instead of walking.

"Someone's excited," I noted out loud.

Peter's grin grew and he laughed.

"I haven't gotten new clothes in _forever_!" Peter exclaimed.

"Really? How long?" I inquired.

Peter scrunched his face in deep thought, "I don't really remember. Three years at least."

"That long?" I was genuinely surprised. "But you should still be growing. How did you still manage to fit?"

I held open the door for him and as he walked through with me following he answered, "The Captain sometimes gave me his old stuff."

"He's a messed up person, little-man."

Peter stopped mid step, turned towards me and stood on his toes making him just about the same height as me. "Who're you calling a little man?! You're the little man!"

I chuckled and patted him on the head, "Sure, tough guy," and started off towards any half decent looking clothing store, Peter in tow. The first one that caught my eye was H&amp;M - a corporate franchise of stores but their clothes are okay looking so I chose to overlook the monopoly way these types of stores are run.

Peter was ecstatic as he glanced around at all H&amp;M had to offer. There was a green v-neck tee shirt a couple steps away from us and Peter ran up to it, immediately checking the price. Dejectedly, he looked down and started wandering away from it.

I snuck up behind him. "You know I don't care about prices? God knows I have more than enough money to get whatever you want." I told him.

Peter turned around, overjoyed once again. "Really?! Oh my goodness, thank you so much!" And again, he ran off, wildly picking out clothes and taking a trip to the changing rooms where I followed him to.

"Peter?" I called out, looking for the room he was in.

"Over here!" He called from the third one in.

I went and sat outside his room, waiting for him to decide on what he wanted. Even though going out in public repulsed me, this wasn't that bad. Actually a lot of things have been more enjoyable with Peter around.

It was that moment when I realized I didn't know his full name. So I asked.

"Hey Peter, what's your last name?"

"I'm Peter Pan," He dutifully told me.

"Oh okay," Then I realized I could make a pun, "I'm Jack Frost but I'm a pan too."

His movement in the dressing room ceased. The curtain started to open and a small head of red hair stuck out.

"Was… Was that a pun?" Peter asked, words full of disappointment and pride.

I answered with simply a smile. He shut the curtain and continued once again with trying on the mound of clothes he picked out. A minute passed and I was bored.

"How much longer are you gonna be?" I asked sounding too much like an impatient two year old. Even though I am, in fact, an impatient 27 year old.

Peter shot back, "Patience is a _virtue_… But I'm almost done… Just curious, do you mind if we, uh, get, um, underwear?" Saying 'underwear' very small.

I laughed and told him I'd get him whatever he wanted, no biggie. Soon we left H&amp;M, continuing on our apparel adventure. Mostly he got casual clothes but, much to Peter's dislike, I made him get a couple of nicer suits. Just how my business works. Of course, while we were in that territory I got myself a new black tie to replace the one I'd left.

We came out of the mall laden with bags several hours later tired and ready to stuff our faces.

"You know what sounds good?" Peter said, "Cookies and milk."

I laughed thinking he was joking but found I was sorely mistaken when I saw the dejected look on his face. "Sorry," I muttered, "But you know you can't have cookies and milk for a meal, right?"

"Oh yeah? Who says?" Peter retorted. I laughed again, this time not stepping on any toes. "I like you, kid. You know what, I'll get you all the cookies and milk you could ever desire."

Peter did an awkward celebratory dance, waving his bags around and doing a leap on each foot. I had to drop the bags to dig the keys out of my pocket. When I was shoving my key into the lock I glanced at Peter who was eyeballing the side of my car like he wanted to lean against it. "You know I'm not gonna get mad at you for stupid things," I told him, throwing open the door and tossing a bag in so Peter could change into the clothes in them. We put the rest in the trunk; soon were on the move again.

Peter changed in the back seat out of the clothes I'd given him and into a pair of skinny khaki pants, a light green v-neck, and a darker green zip up hoodie. For an added touch of indie, he pulled on a beanie the same color as his shirt. Not gonna lie, the kid looked hot - like really hot. When he finished changing he started to climb over the seat into the front. Of course I couldn't resist having fun with this situation especially with the ridiculous position Peter was in - ass up, head near my own ass, and bent in half over the seats. There was nobody else on the wooded highway we were speeding down as I started rapidly swerving everywhere and scaring the living shit out of Peter. It was great.

Finally, I stopped after he made it to the front shaken but unharmed. It was obvious he did not find my shenanigans at all funny. "Oh come on," I elbowed him lightly, "That was funny!"

He turned towards the window and I saw his reflection pout. I played the heart broken and innocent, "Okay geez, fine then… Go ahead and be a poop."

Then finally Peter started laughing. It was the _first_ time he had done that around me and I must say that it was an absolutely intoxicating, glorious sound. The laughter sprung from his smiling face completely naturally. "There you go," I said but he didn't hear me.

Through fits of giggles Peter said, "You're such a butt cheek!" Giggles. "I wont say that was funny because it wasn't you big meanie!" More giggles. Then he stuck his tongue out at me making a face and just like that his laughter subsided although his grin remained.

"You know, you look better when you're smiling. Your face is just wrong when you try for that tough person look," I said.

"I feel like I should be saying that to you - but your face is just weird anyways," Peter replied.

"Hey! Whats wrong with my face?"

"Oh nothing except your eyes are too blue and your scruffy chin… and you know, everything else," Peter said as his grin turned into a smirk.

"I like my goatee!" I defended.

"Who even says goatee?"

That was true, only middle aged weirdos say 'goatee'.

"Okay," I said, "I see your point but I think it looks good plus if I shave it I'll looks ten years younger."

"Looking like a teenager isn't a bad thing - just look at me." Peter opened his arms, showing off himself. Hot damn, thats the self-confidence level I aspire to be. The kid's hot stuff and he knows it.

I thought for a moment trying to play off the very obvious fact I am attracted to an underage kid before changing the subject. "I'm hungry. Wanna stop somewhere?"

Peter looked confused so I answered his unsaid question. "There's a small town in about five minutes. I drive here a lot."

He nodded and sat back into the seat. In no time at all we were pulling into a supermarket, ready to buy every bit of food they sold. Peter looked excitedly around the store like it was heaven. I told him the same rules as the mall applied and he ran off.

While Peter was zig-zagging around the store, talking to people and rapidly grabbing whatever looked good, I decided on what to get myself. Making an executive decision on beer for me and egg nog for Sandy I then went off to find Peter.

He was excitedly waiting by the checkout line, bouncing on his toes with his arms full of everything good in life like a large jar of Nutella, a bag of baby carrots, chocolate pudding, a big can of Arizona, and a couple of other things I couldn't distinguish from the distance I was at.

When we were getting checked out the cashier-lady did that thing that everyone hates and commented on the sort of items we were buying. In her suddenly annoyingly happy voice she said, "This is quite the assortment of items you're getting. You're not having them all at once, are you two?"

For one _horrible_ moment I thought I might have to answer but thankfully Peter spoke up, answering in an equally happy but not at all annoying tone, "Oh no miss, I certainly don't plan on eating carrots with nutella. Actually, I was planning on mixing the pudding and whip cream with the nutella and putting it on a graham cracker."

I eyed him curiously and the cashier said, "That's like the ultimate sugar sandwich! Now, I kind of wanna try it."

Peter looked too overjoyed to be starting a conversation with a complete stranger in a small town. I gave the lady some cash when she rang up our total and practically drug the talky child out of the store by the ends of his slightly pointed ears.

Back on the highway, Peter continued talking excitedly. The content of his one-sided conversation consisted mostly of "HOW FLIPPING AWESOME THAT STORE WAS" and "I SWEAR I'VE NEVER BEEN IN ONE THAT BIG EVER or really a store at all bUT THAT LADY WAS SO NICE I HOPE I MEET MORE PEOPLE LIKE HER..." You get the idea.

I thought he would never shut up (I was starting to hope he wouldn't in the back of my mind) but when I turned onto a side road, the question of the year was asked, "Wait, so where are we going?" Peter said, turning to grab his food.

"Sandy's place. He's my uncle/godfather of sorts." I answered. I didn't want to say too much about him as there is too much to say. The best way to describe Sandy is to take one look at his father face and his grandfather eyes. Of course, my lack of details sparked Peter.

"What's he like?"

I slowed as the paved part of the road ended, "Well, how do you feel about drugs, kid?"

**AN: HI! So sorry for the long wait. My mum left her ****fiancé (won't go into details because it was bad) and I had to move back to my old house (still don't have all my stuff but its just stuff idc) then school ended so I no longer had easy access to a computer. HOWEVER, for the new school I'm going to, it's required that I have a Mac so guess what I just got! Side note - cats make great windows to look through when you try to type these things. **

**About the end of this chapter. I was merrily reading through it during my editing spree when I got to the end and had the horrible realization that I ended this one in the same format as the last one. Its been so long since I updated though that I decided to fix it later if I still wanted to. Needless to say, I will try my hardest to never do that again.**

**Anyways, how are you guys? Hows your summer been? I'm curious ^.^ And if theres any crazy stories of stuff you've done this summer I wanna hear! Even regular stories would be great!**

**As always, have a lovely day/night and don't forget to R&amp;R!**

**P.S. The new school I'm going to is Interlochen if you're curious **


	5. Chapter 5

There he was, sitting on his porch in all his plumpness. Sandy jumped from his reclined position and seemed to float for a moment before excitedly waving at my car.

Peter slept soundly beside me. He lay with his mouth wide open - a slight hint of a snore sneaking out occasionally. One hand was shoved up under his shirt and rested on his belly. A leg was up on the seat between us and a couple of crumbs also rested on his chest.

The rumbling of the motor stopped and I got out, shutting the door carefully and as quietly as I could so Peter didn't wake. Once I was out, I greeted Sandy, "Hey! How are you?"

He shrugged playfully, "Now you're here so I'm super duper good." Sandy looked as if he was going to continue but he stopped and looked curiously at the car. "Who's that with you?" He asked, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"I'll introduce you; hold on," I ran off to wake Peter. I must not have been quiet enough exiting the vehicle because when I turned around, he was already shutting the door on his way out of the car. He smiled and waved at Sandy - who smiled warmly and waved back - and me. "Looks like you're not the sneakiest of sorts," Sandy quietly said to me as Peter approached.

He stood next to me on the porch as I introduced the two. They both said 'hello' at the same time causing an eruption of giggles between them. Sandy and Peter would get along just fine, I thought. Finally, Sandy invited us inside to the amazing smell of food.

One large meal later, Sandy was showing us 'wonderful thoughts'. "You guys wanna try?" He asked while glancing from Peter back to me. I nodded and looked at Peter. "Ever been high before?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah! Wait, you mean I can smoke that?" Peter said giddily. Sandy handed him a small bag containing what looked like weed and coke mixed together. "Sick!" Peter exclaimed, "But this isn't like heroin or something nasty like that is it?"

"Not as far as I know. It's been on the street for about a month now and so far no one has reacted like that." Sandy told him in an extremely business like tone as if selling drugs is the most scientific and well respected art. He handed me a bag identical to Peter's then sent us on our way.

I waved to Sandy, "It's great seeing you, man!" He jumped up and grabbed my waving hand, pulling me into an uncomfortably bent over hug due to his short stature. Just as I was about to pull away he whispered into my ear, "I like this little fireball you got. Don't fuck him up. And don't get into trouble 'causa him!"

Peter and I drove into the forest looking for a place to turn off. The road just continued going up. Under my breath I mumbled, "The higher you get, the higher you get."

"Sorry what?" Peter asked as if I insulted him.

"Oh. Oh," I said apologetically, "It's this phrase I put on the roof of the pioneer cabin in Idaho."

"I wanna see!" He said excitedly.

"Maybe I'll take you there sometime. Or you could google it I guess." (**AN: I hiked there earlier this summer and its pretty cool. Seriously though, go google about this cabin. That phrase really is on the roof**) I finally saw a road that looked as if we could have it to our own. A pair of trees was parted just enough so the car would fit in a little hidden forest cove.

"Light 'em up!"

Peter's youthful enthusiasm was too precious, I couldn't bring myself to stop him from saying that again. Nevertheless I sure did laugh my ass off. " You don't even need to be high to be stupid funny," I said. At that, he jumped out of the car and put his hands on his hips with his chest stuck out and freckled nose pointed straight in the air, hitting some comical superhero pose.

Peter shoved all the miscellaneous crap laying around in the backseat into the trunk while I got our wonderful thoughts ready.

"It smells back here," Peter complained. I handed him the best joint I've ever rolled and clambered over the seats. "This doesn't," I said.

Soon we were flying. Instead of us being spun around the sun by the gravity of earth, we were spinning around earth spinning around the sun. "I feel like the moon," said Peter wistfully. We started giggling like hell. I took my last big puff then started thinking just how fucking magical yogurt is. That's when I knew this stuff was way more than good.

Agh. Agh! There was a rock jabbing me in the back and a head resting on my legs. Peter lay on me smiling up at the stars. The way he looked was too enchanting that I almost didn't try to move away from the rock but I guess my body involuntarily twitched causing Peter's eyes to snap to me. "Hey," He whispered happily.

"Hey," I said in a low voice. It came out sort of grumbily as if I had been sleeping for a while. "Sorry, lemme just-" I shifted so I was no longer laying on a somewhat sharp rock.

"Better, Jack?" He asked.

I nodded. Peter turned back to gazing at the stars so I looked up at them too. Well, I tried. Soon I found myself looking at the stars in his eyes rather than the ones in the sky. It really wasn't a bad view especially after coming down.

We lay propped against my car for a while. When I started feeling tired I figured that might be our cue to leave. As we sat down in the car, I checked the time on my phone where the clock brightly displayed 5:32AM. Ha what is sleep?

On our drive home Peter looked out the window watching the dark figures of trees and whatnot dash by. The world was silent and a cool breeze brushed against me through my open window. Everything was perfect.

Something was bugging me, however. There was this nagging feeling Peter and I did something that we didn't mean to. What we smoked was way stronger than normal weed and I remembered almost nothing. I didn't even remember being hungry which is usually all I can remember after being sky high.

At the fuel stop I decided to fuck my pride and ask him if he remembered anything we did. He scratched his head in thought before answering, "Um… I don't know. I do know that I really want to smoke that again though."

The gas pump snapped signaling that it was finished flowing gas into my car. As I put the nozzle back into its holder I said, "That's alright. Maybe I'll get Sandy to drop by and give you more.

"Yes!" He celebrated as I pulled onto the dark highway.

It wasn't long until we were back to the comfortable silence. I rolled down my window to let in the cool night air again but soon found myself getting too cold. That's freaking weird I thought but I rolled it back up anyway and instantly felt warmer and better.

The sun was way in the sky before I pulled into the driveway back at the house I despise. Peter was once again curled against the door fast asleep. Not wanting to leave him in the car, I picked him up and carried him to my bed. As I turned to go sleep on the couch I heard a faint "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

Peter's eyes were only open enough to see that he was looking at me. He asked shyly, "Will you stay with me?"

I was hesitant to answer but finally I said, "O-of course." Climbing into the covers next to him, I only expected to lie next to him and nap but I was mistaken. Peter rolled over to me and wrapped himself around me putting his head on my chest over my heart and a leg crossing one of mine. My arm found itself moving to hug Peter closer to me. In a short time both of us were asleep happily. It was the first time I had no bad dreams.

My phone buzzed angrily against my thigh but I was too comfortable. Everything was too perfect in that moment. I decided to not answer and let it ring. Whoever was calling me called again. And again. And it just kept ringing. Can you not wait?!

I reached into my pocket with my free hand, answering to an overly cheerful Sandy.

"Mmnn." I grunted.

"Good Evening, Jack!" He greeted, "I'm on my way to your house and-"

I cut him off, "Evening? What time is it?"

"It's starting to be around… 6:30 probably."

"Oh no, I had things to do today!" I worried.

Sandy chuckled, "You know how I feel about tomorrows."

"Yes I know. But 'Tomorrow is only found in the calendar of fools' - Og Mandino." I quoted.

He laughed. Then he paused before continuing what he had to say before I cut him off and sidetracked, "So I'm on my way to you right now and I have more Wonderful Thoughts to share with you."

"Oh yay," I said cheerfully, "Peter mentioned he wants more. You read minds don't you?"

"Well obviously I do. I'm the Sandman. How else would I know which dreams go to which person?"

"True."

He chuckled again, "The reason I called you is to ask if there is anything you need from the store."

I thought for a moment before answering. "Um… Yes I actually think there is. Popcorn and a Disney movie."

"Why a movie? Don't you own most of the original Disney movies?" He questioned.

"They got stolen." I answered.

"Ah. Okie Dokie," Sandy said, "Does it matter which one I get?"

I thought about it a little. "Not really but Aladdin is preferable."

"You and your arabian boys." He joked. I blushed hard and decided the phone call needed to end soon.

"Shut. Anyways, I was kind of in the middle of something so I'll see you soon. Bye." I said hurriedly.

He brightly laughed again, said goodbye, and hung up. I threw the phone on the bed in a huff then suddenly worried if I had hit Peter. I looked down at him and all was well. He lay passed out on top of me with his hair spread out on my shirt. I watched his mouth twitch into a smile as I started gently rubbing his back as I fell back asleep.

**AN: HEY! I actually**** updated in a timely manner what is this. I hope you enjoyed this slightly long chapter. **

**(heres the part where I talk about my life because I can)**

**So anyways, I finally started school three days ago. So far it hasn't been bad but I probably won't be saying that in three weeks. This new school is really quite pleasant actually and I'm way happier here. Also my roommate is hella cute but thats another story. Also, because I've now started school I am not hopeful on keeping up with my updating schedule. My roommate is a creative writing major so hopefully that'll give me some motivation to actually write after a long day of homework or music but we'll see. **

**So ye**

**Thank you for reading my work and don't forget to R&amp;R! Have a nice!**


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